The Crick

Yesterday morning, I was woken up by a panicked daddy, telling me to come see you right away. He told me you had a crick in your neck or something, and that you were crying.  When I got to your room, you were lying stiffly in bed, whining that you couldn't move your head, and crying. You had slept funny in the night or something, and woken up with a sore neck.  You were alarmed that you couldn't turn your head without hurting, and were too afraid to move.

I did a quick examination and decided that it wasn't anything more serious than some muscle strain, but of course, you weren't so easily convinced. When I told you it may take a few days for it to heal fully, you were unimpressed.   Many hugs and snuggles ( and promises from Daddy of ice cream ) later, you finally relaxed and went back to sleep.  The short rest did the soreness some good, as well as a dose of ibuprofen, and you were soon dealing with the discomfort like a trooper, with occasional yelps when you forgot that your range of neck movement was still restricted.

Later that day, we were grocery shopping at HEB, you said you were tired, and Daddy made a seat for you on the cart.  A couple of minutes later, you asked Daddy, "Didn't you mention something about ice-cream this morning?"

Brother. :) 

Anyway, both you and Daddy had been pretty traumatized, and so Daddy made good on his promise.  He got you a little mini Ben and Jerry's Cookie Dough flavored ice cream to have while I carted you around, picking up groceries.  He then asked you if the ice cream helped your neck any.

Your reply?

"No Daddy, it didn't heal my head, but it healed my heart"

I think you made Daddy's heart swell up so big right then, it almost burst :)